Tapestry Threads
by 0oLady-Deliriumo0
Summary: A collection of drabbles written for my rp partners over at my Pitch Black roleplay blog, Tapestry Of Screams.
1. Perfect

This was just a little drabble I did for luck-y-lee on tumblr for her leprechaun OC Lucky and my Pitch muse.

This is the first of drabbles I will do, any and all of my drabbles for my Pitch muse and my rp partners will be posted here.

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**Perfect**

He'd bestowed gifts on his husband before, he'd done it several times in fact but they had all been something useful, like weapons or objects that could protect the younger spirit against harm.

This however, was _completely_ different.

The Nightmare King turned the little ring over again and again in his hand, inspecting the details, making sure that it was perfect, that not a flaw was present. It was well formed, perfectly shaped and sized, forged in metal blackened with nightmare sand and dotted with tiny little cuts of dragon's breath opal. He frowned at it, knowing that it possessed no power to protect and that...that it was simply a shiny bauble that was dripping in _sentiment_.

He would of course express his love for the spitfire of a leprechaun quite often, but it was done in actions and words not with objects that were nothing more than just that - a material possession. This felt foreign, out of place, human, but worst of all it felt like the_ right_ thing to do. He shook his head then, his frown deepening as he stood from the seat next to his forge and slunk into the shadows of his home to find his lover.

When Pitch finally found Lucky, the Fae was seated on the floor of one their lair's many libraries, his loyal nightmare stag, Amiss curled affectionately around his master's back. Lucky was much too lost in carving the small piece of wood in his hands to notice Pitch's approach, It was something he often did. The old General had noticed his improvement with it though as of late, the smaller spirit having picked up a few tricks and tips from North, who was a master at carving. Amiss however, did notice the ancient King and turned his head to softly nudge the red head nestled against his side. With a slight start, Lucky looked up, a bright smile gracing his freckled face and lighting up his emerald colored eyes.

"Pitch, there ye are," the Fae stood, falling quite a bit shorter than the exceedingly tall and lean Nightmare King. His face however dropped when he noticed the troubled expression his husband wore, stepping a bit closer as he craned his neck to be able to see the ashen being's face.

"What's that face for? Something wrong?" Lucky reached up to lay a gentle hand to Pitch's face, his tan skin contrasting harshly against the taller man's own pale, ash colored tone. Pitch's features softened at the other's concern, taking his smaller hand in his own larger one and pausing to lay a few butterfly light kisses to his knuckles.

"Nothing is wrong, everything is alright..well, mostly," he replied, withdrawing the ring from his pocket with his free hand, then cradled Lucky's wrist as he slipped it onto his ring finger.

"It's terribly sentimental I know, not to mention mundane, lacking in craftsmanship, it's so _dreadfully_ human-"

"Pitch," the Fae cut off the rambling Nightmare King, pulling his small form closer to his husband, threading his fingers into soft ebony tresses "It's _perfect_." and he pulled Pitch's head down and pressed their lips together, jewel colored eyes falling shut in bliss.

And Pitch didn't bother to retort, only closed his eyes in turn and leaned into the loving embrace, long arms coming to wrap possessively around the Fae's back, pulling him as close as he could possibly be. In that moment, he knew Lucky was right, just as he had been all those other times.

This truly was _perfect_.


	2. Come Out And Play

Another drabble for Luck-y-lee over at tumblr. This particular one is an AU (an AU of an AU really) Pitch and Lucky, as you may know from the last drabble are actually married. I just took the chance to go a little darker with this drabble in particular.

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**Come Out And Play**

It was _supposed_ to be simple.

Death himself had told him so, had wanted him to carry out the task, and such a simple task it was. Or at least it _should_ have been, and what should have been and the reality of things are in no way similar.

There were many things that the Nightmare King did expect however, like the high amount of resistance, or the pack of oversized wolves lead by a Demigod. He knew of the obnoxious little pixies lurking within the dwelling, with their sharp needle teeth, he knew of the runes written on the walls to keep him out. He knew that the Fae he had been sent after was a scrapper, who was incredibly fast, crafty and limber, easily able to wriggle his way out of the clutches of most of his enemies. He had not however, expected what was beyond that door.

There, Miss Fortune's apprentice had stood, stance defensive with sword in hand and his teeth bared in a way that said he knew he was trapped. That...face, it had completely stunned the ancient fear personification, causing his jaw to hang slightly ajar. His skin was tan shade, delicately chiseled face dusted with freckles, with wide jeweled emerald eyes blazing, all framed with a crown of hair the color of a blood red sunrise. Death had regretted to inform him that his target was so...hopelessly captivating. The elder spirit was so fixated that he almost missed the move his target made to escape, snapping him out of his trance as he struck out at the red headed Fae, wrapping a strong shadow tendril around his leg and dragged him to the ground.

"Let me go! Ye sick son of a-" the leprechaun growled out viciously as he thrashed against the shadowed appendages constricting his limbs, twisting his weapon from his grasp, leaving him helpless and vulnerable. The Nightmare King however, remained silent, daring to step closer, daring to look at his furious and violently writhing target. Gods, his face was even more _beautiful_ when twisted up in rage, and the ancient spirit found himself completely enthralled. He stepped closer, and closer still until he loomed over his victim, curiosity and utter infatuation played through the pale golden depths of his eyes.

At his feet, pools of emerald green stared back, slowly widening in horror as he read the emotions in the eyes of the elder spirit, the fear began to wake in the pounding of his heart.

And the King could feel it.

He could hear it.

Smell it.

Taste it.

That fear was so rich, smelling of oh so lovely rosemary and earth, and tasting of cool spring water from a dam broken long ago. It awakened him in a way that he had not been in centuries, a sensory overload and he wanted more. Nothing was going to stop him from taking more either, there was nothing in the way of what he wanted now. His lips twitched, the corners methodically turning up into a cruel, hungry, malicious grin. The Fae pinned to the floor by murky tendrils let out a noise, something akin to a whimper halfway to a scream.

"N-no..please..Don't!"

The lights abruptly flickered out, drowning both spirits in darkness.

There was a scream, the fear seethed and hummed wildly, crashing down in waves as sound faded and numbness settled in.

And the Nightmare King took what he desired.


End file.
